


For Whom the Bell Tolls, aka These Idiots

by sam42



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam42/pseuds/sam42
Summary: George is ill, but he has two of his bandmates to take care of him! Sort of.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	For Whom the Bell Tolls, aka These Idiots

_Ring ring ring. Ring. Riiiiiiiiiing._

“Dear Lord, I cannot take any more of this. Please, Paulie, you’ve gotta put me out of my misery. He’s a menace, him and that _thing_ .” John sat at the kitchen table, holding his head in his hands. “ _God_ ,” he groaned.

Paul glanced up from the tea he was preparing. “Christ, John, take pity on the poor lad. He can barely keep any food down and he’s skin and bones as it is.”

_Riiiiiiiing._

“Why isn’t Ringo taking care of him? He’s his flatmate, his responsibility!”

Paul smiled, raising an eyebrow. “He promised ages ago to take Mo out tonight, you know that. And anyway, are you really in such a hurry to get back to Kenwood?” Paul stirred sugar into the tea. “You should go see what he wants.”

“Why me?!”

“Because I’m preparing his tea.”

“A poor excuse if you ask me.”

“Sod off, Lennon.”

“Oh, I can leave then?” John grinned as he jumped up from the kitchen chair. “I’ll just get me coat-”

A look of panic passed over Paul’s face. “John, I swear if you leave me here alone with him, my mouth will never be anywhere even near the vicinity of your dick again!”

“Aha! The ‘perfect’ McCartney shows his true colors! ‘Take pity on the lad,’ eh? You’re so full of shit.”

_RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING._

“All right, George, we hear you!” Paul shouted. “For fuck’s sake…”

“Don’t believe a word of his sweet lies, Georgie! He doesn’t care like I do! It’s all an act!”

“You _LIAR_!” Paul gasped rather overdramatically and pounced on John, leaving George’s steaming tea behind.

“I-- OOF!” John responded as Paul tackled him to the ground, “I see right through you, Macca!”

The two rolled about laughing on the floor, each desperately trying to overpower the other. The battle was evenly matched, but in the end, Paul managed to grab both of John’s wrists. With a cry of triumph, he pinned them above John’s head.

“Well,” John breathed heavily, “this seems familiar.”

“You randy git.”

“Only for you, baby,” John replied with a cheesy smile.

“That’s _disgusting_ ,” said a rough voice from the kitchen, which they had apparently previously rolled out of.

“George!” Paul leaped off of John, rushing over to where George sat at the table, sipping his tea. “You shouldn’t be out of bed, you’re still too ill!”

“Well,” George rasped, “I _did_ ring the bell. It seems you had more important things to attend to,” he added, raising an eyebrow at John.

“Oh, young master Harrison, I profusely apologize,” John intoned in a posh accent as he scrambled to his feet. “This rapscallion here assaulted my distinguished self as I was preparing to deliver your tea!”

“I’ll show you rapscallion, you--” Paul was cut off as George began to cough, seal-like barks coming from his mouth. “Oh no,” Paul tsked as he leapt to George’s side. “You should be in bed, let me help…”

George shrugged Paul off, having drained his cup of tea. “No, by all means, desecrate the floor of my flat while I slowly shuffle off this mortal coil. I’ll make my own way back to my deathbed.”

John laughed, causing Paul to shoot him a sharp look of disapproval.

“George, we’re sorry--” Paul trailed off as George held up a hand.

“I really do appreciate you lads being here,” George said as he gave the other two a soft smile. “And you’re welcome to stay the night. But…” His face became slightly pained. “ _Please come when I ring the fucking bell!_ ”

“Of course, Georgie! Do you need me to tuck you in?” John batted his lashes at George, ignoring Paul’s obvious sigh.

George rolled his eyes, turning away to head back to his bedroom.

“Good night, George,” said Paul, trying to ignore John, who had gravitated to Paul’s side and was currently groping Paul’s arse.

“Good night,” came the weak reply as George receded into the darkness of the corridor. “And for God’s sake, don’t leave a mess on my floor.”

“I WOULD NEVER,” shouted John and Paul in unison, before looking at each other and bursting into giggles.

“You’re cleaning up,” John said quietly after a moment.

Paul sighed. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Beatles writing party with the prompt "illness."


End file.
